


one of these things is not like the other

by ghostofgatsby



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Aromantic, Greyromantic, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Slightly RPF, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 16:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3657969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a marvel that one small piece of notebook paper could cause him such heartache.<br/>Smith had passed him a note in the hallway, while the two stopped to chat at Ross’ locker before going to separate classes.<br/>Not expecting anything out of the ordinary, Ross had settled into his seat at the back of his English class.<br/>He didn’t see this coming, but if he thought about it, the signs were obvious.<br/>In Smith’s crappy handwriting was a short but to-the-point message.<br/><em>Hey, so</em><br/><em>I love you</em><br/><em>Will you go out with me?</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> what’s that? “you should do your microbiology homework?” I heard “write greyromantic unrequited feelings smornby high school AU fic”
> 
> A little bit based off of a situation I have been in. With a slightly different outcome, though. Also a lot more stress that wasn’t immediate like in Ross’ case.  
> This isn’t written very well, I think, compared to some of my other stuff. It’s very high school, but, that’s the setting, so I think that’s why it is the way it is.
> 
> High School AU, RPF, Greyromantic, Unrequited Feelings  
> kind of RPF?  
> American high school system.
> 
> want to reblog? https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2015/10/16/one-of-these-things-is-not-like-the-other-ghostofgatsby/

It was a marvel that one small piece of notebook paper could cause him such heartache.

Ross had been spending more and more time with Smith lately. Which wasn’t that unusual, considering they were best friends. But with Trott dating Katie, the two of them hung out more often. It wasn’t that Trott was excluding them now that he had a girlfriend, but the three of them did hang out a little less often than usual. That left more time for  Ross and Smith.

Smith had passed him a note in the hallway, while the two stopped to chat at Ross’ locker before going to separate classes. Sharing notes was pretty common, and all three of them passed notes in class. They talked about after-school plans, terrible teachers, video games and movies. Occasionally, one person would share notes with the other in-between classes. It could be asking for advice about script plots, composing music lyrics, or revealing the latest school gossip. Whatever, really.

Not expecting anything out of the ordinary, Ross had settled into his seat at the back of his English class. He took his time to unpack his books from his backpack, and greeted a few people. The teacher walked in and began to write today’s assignment on the board. Ross took Smith’s note from his pocket and unfolded it.

He didn’t see this coming, but if he thought about it, the signs were obvious.

In Smith’s crappy handwriting was a short but to-the-point message.

 

_Hey, so_

_I love you_

_Will you go out with me?_

 

The world seemed to narrow around Ross, until the only thing he focused on was the note in his hands. There was a tightness in his chest, and for a moment he wondered if this was some kind of joke. He read it again.

 

_I love you_

_Will you go out with me?_

 

It wasn’t a joke. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t something Smith would joke about.

Ross felt shell-shocked. He reread the note over and over and over.

 

_I love you_

 

In his mind he pictured Smiffy’s brilliant grin, eyes full of joy and mischief. Laughing, swinging his arms around his and Trott’s shoulders as they left school for the day. Smith bent over a guitar, running his hand through his hair. Every day coming to school dressed in a burgundy shirt and khakis.

Smith loved him. Was in love with him.

_And how do I feel?_

Ross could feel his heart pounding in his chest. There was a sort of floaty feeling but he also felt a dark, looming sense of dread creeping in.

_I...don’t feel the same._

Love. What _was_ love? Ross had love for many people: family, pets, friends. But he’d never been in love before. He didn’t know what it felt like other than what the media and other people told him.

A swooping rush of emotions, bright and happy in his chest.

There was a definite swooping, but that was his heart plummeting into his stomach.

When he thought of Smith, did he think of love?

Yes, but...but it wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t the same and he didn’t know why.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love Smith back; it wasn’t that he didn’t care about him. He did. He cared so much, but did that equal love?

_It’s not the kind of love he wants of me. I’m not...in love...am I?_

What was he going to say to Smith?

If he briefly thought about being in a relationship...

The idea somewhat thrilled him, but he also felt consumed by terror.

Smith would expect him to love him back, if he said yes. And he didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t feel the same way no matter how he tried to reason with it. Whatever he felt for Smith, it wasn’t the kind of love that Smith felt for him.

It wasn’t the same.

Ross chewed on his lip nervously. His palms were sweaty as he took a pencil from his desk to write a reply. He felt so terrible, but...he couldn’t lie and say yes. No matter how much he cared, it wasn’t the same.

It pained him to write, but he had to.

 

_I’m sorry...but...I think we should just stay friends._

 

He hastily refolded the note and shoved it in his back pocket.

Smith would stop at his locker again before the next class, so he’d hand it to him and dash off.

He hated to give such a crap reply, but...he didn’t think he’d be able to say it in person, or be able to watch Smith’s face fall as he read it.

Ross let out a shaky sigh and focused his attention on the teacher at the front of the room.

_I’m not going to worry about it. I’m just going to pay attention in class and forget it. No use in getting myself all worked up over it._

 

* * *

 

The rest of the morning came and went. Ross gave Smith back his note, not looking him in the eyes he walked away as quickly as he could without running. He pressed himself into the crowd of students during passing period and made his way to his next class, Calculus, with Trott. 

There was a cloud of guilt brewing in his stomach, and he felt ashamed. Smith would probably hate him. And it’s not like he could explain it. He did care about him, he really did, but...he didn’t think it was the love that Smith was looking for. It was better to hurt him less in the long run, than to try and find out it wasn’t going to work out. 

Ross’ depressing thoughts were interrupted by a note sliding onto his desk. He smirked and he looked to his left to see Trott dragging his book out of his beat up backpack. Apparently Trott was up for passing notes in class today too. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes, wondering what his other best friend wanted to talk about. His fingers slowly pried open the note, which was folded into a triangle. 

Inside the note was a descriptive story about the more popular kids’ parties this weekend. Trott often overheard these tales during his morning Spanish class. Cocaine and marijuana and plenty of drinks to go around. And they had totally got busted this time. 

Haha, suckers. The three of them weren’t about that life, and would much rather spend a night playing video games together. Though Smith had been to a few parties with the stoner cult of the high school, back in freshman year. 

Haha, freshmen. It was great to be an upperclassman. 

Ross wrote a response, and sent the note back as the calculus teacher began to pass out a packet of practice problems. Busy work, but rough busy work, because calculus wasn’t easy. Once again, Ross was thankful that Trott could understand some of what was going on. He was usually lost. 

The paper triangle skidded back onto his desk, and Ross couldn’t help but smile. Until he read the note. 

 

_so I heard Smith’s gonna ask someone out today_  

 

Oh shit. 

Did he know? 

What was he going to say? 

Fuck...um... 

Act oblivious! 

 

_Oh really?_

 

_yeah_  

_no idea who it is tho, he wouldn’t say, other than that it was someone I know_  

 

Ross breathed a little easier, but his eyes glanced up at the clock. Lunch was in less than an hour. And at lunch, he and Smith would see each other since he gave him that note. 

Should he tell Trott? He’d probably figure out anyway. If he told him maybe he’d actively help avoid the tension that was soon to happen during lunch. 

 

_It was me._  

 

He tried to remain as calm  as possible as he turned his eyes to the practice problems instead of over at Trott. 

 

_lol_

_nice one Ross_  

 

Fuck’s sake. 

This was so awkward. 

 

_I’m...not kidding, mate. It really was me..._

 

Out of the three of them, Trott was surprisingly the straight one, Smith was a flaming homosexual, and Ross was bi. It was amusing sometimes, with Trott always having to say “no, I’m straight actually”. Smith flirted with anyone and everyone regardless of gender, both before and after he realized vagina wasn’t for him. Ross...avoided relationships entirely like he’d taken a vow of chastity. It was a running joke that he was going to join a monastery when he graduated. 

With all this in mind, he was somewhat surprised that Trott thought he was joking. Sure, Smith had never shown any interest in Ross in that way before. He flirted with everyone, so it was rather hard to tell if he liked someone. But was it really that surprising? 

The note reappeared. 

 

_omg. no way. what’d you say!?!?_

 

_I said no..._

 

_shit, mate..._

_I mean._

_shit._

 

_Yeah_

_I feel awful._

 

_no, don’t beat yourself up about it :(_

_it can’t be helped if you don’t feel the same_

_I mean, I’m sure Smiffy’s bummed but..._

_things’ll turn around_

 

_I probably fucked everything up._

 

_nah mate Smith’ll come around_

_he’ll be okay_

_shit, lunch is gonna be awkward tho_

 

_I didn’t know what to say. He gave me a note before English, and in the note he asked if I’d go out with him. And...I ..._

_I said no, because I think maybe we want different things. I don’t think I feel the same way._

_But at the same time I ...I care so much. About both of you. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to screw over our friendship._

_I mean, it’s...different with Smith. I think it’s different because the feelings I have for you and him are slightly different. I don’t want to date you. But I don’t know if I want to date him._

_I don’t know..._

_I can’t figure this out, Trott, and Smith’ll hate me either way._

_If I say yes I’ll feel like I’m lying but if I say no we both feel like shit._  

 

After writing a mountain of text, Ross puts all of his energy into his calculus work. When he looks over at Trott, he’s bent over the desk, writing something back. 

It’s a few minutes before the note lands on his desk again.

 

_he’s not gonna hate you sunshine_

_he’s your best friend (aside from me) and he’s not gonna hate you for something that is out of his control_

_I’ll keep an eye on him, talk to him_

_I’m sure he’ll feel down about it but it can’t be helped_

_just let him know you support him_

_be there for him like you would be if he had asked someone else out and gotten turned down_

_but..._

_I do have to ask:_

_why not tell him all of this? that you really don’t know where your feelings lie?_

 

_I’ll be leading him on like that, though, won’t I? If we’re stuck in this will-they-won’t-they scenario and then it turns out I still don’t want to date him down the line or whatever?_

_I guess so_

_I dunno mate_

_I’m not sure what you should do_

_Yeah, well._

_Will you help diffuse the tension during lunch? And don’t tell Smith about this? What I told you?_

_sure mate_

 

_Thanks._

_Now, what’d you get for number three? I have no idea where to start..._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanoned Sips as being asexual in this 'verse. Which is interesting.

“Guys, so, how about this- Gary Busey, Michelle Pfeiffer, Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. Marry, Fuck, Kill. Go!”

“Sips, what the fuck, you always pick old people!”

“Are you secretly into cougars or something, Sips? Jeeze.”

“Who told you my secret? So what if I like ‘em wise and experienced? Absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

“It also _depends_ _,_ if you catch my meaning.”

The lunch table chorused in laughter. Ross, Trott, and Smith were sitting at their usual table at the back of the cafeteria with Sips and Turps, who were one year older than them.

“So, I would fuck Michelle Pfeiffer, obviously, because duh.” Turps continued, “Marry The Rock, because, duh, that’s obvious too. And kill Gary Busey. Done, done, and done!”

“Noooo Turps, the answer is marry Gary Busey, fuck The Rock and kill Michelle Pfeiffer! You big dummy!”

The teenagers chortled with laughter. Another one of their classmates walked up.

“Hey Sips, have you finished that assignment for History yet?”

“Nah, what is it? I haven’t even looked.”

The other young man chuckled and leaned against the table, annoyingly shoving it towards Trott and Ross, who shifted their seats back to make room.

“Do you want to work on it in study hall after lunch?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sips gave the young man a smile, and he positively beamed.

“Cool! I’ll see you then!”

The young man left the table and Turps rolled his eyes heavily as he turned to Sips.

“Fuck the twerp already, Sips, come on. He hasn’t left you alone since you transferred.”

“Nah, I’m good, you know.” Sips took a drink of his chocolate milk. “Not interested.”

“He totally wants in your pants, mate.” Smith added in, stealing the cold, soggy cheese fries off of Trott’s tray.

Sips shook his head. “I don’t wear pants though, so...” He gave an exaggerated shrug.

“Aren’t you wearing pants right now?”

“These are _trousers_ _,_ I’ll have you know, Trott.”

“Ooh, _fancy_!”

“Maybe that’s your problem, mate, he wants you to wear pants!”

“Yeah, you know, maybe some skinny jeans or leather chaps...”

Sips snorts and shakes his head. “ _Sorry_ , I don’t care for pants, okay? What a fuckin’ twerp. Get your own damn pants. Or fuckin’ pantalones, whatever that Spanish shit is. Fuck’s sake.”

The crew laughed again, and Trott started up a conversation with Turps and Smith about the latest Pokemon release. Ross picked at the rest of his lunch. He’d eaten maybe half of it. It’s not like the school lunches were good, but he wasn’t that hungry.

Smith hadn’t said anything, but he wasn’t actively talking to Ross either. And Ross wasn’t talking to him.

They had study hall at the end of the day today, and Ross wasn’t sure what they were going to do. Normally the two of them talked straight through study hall, without bothering to study at all.

He thought about skipping study hall and going home, but he wasn’t one to skip class, and he couldn’t leave Smith alone. That would make him look like a right prick. **  
**

* * *

 

At the end of the day, though, it isn’t him that looks like a prick. But since he was thinking the same thing, he can’t really blame him.

Ross catches Smith heading towards the front of the school, in the opposite direction of study hall.

“Smith, where’re you going?” He asks down the hallway. Only a few straggling students are in the hall. The bell rings, making them late.

“Smith?”

Smith ignores his call and walks faster. Ross darts after him as his friend starts running, reaching the doors outside and pushing them open.

“Smith!” Ross shouts and he runs outside. “Where are you going?”

Smith doesn’t respond. It’s raining outside, big wet drops of water making puddles in the crappy pothole-central that is the high school’s parking lot.

Ross chases Smith all the way to where his car is parked before he grabs his arm and turns him around.

“Smith, where are you going?”

“Home.” Smith’s face is shadowy and his eyes look pained.

“We have study hall.”

“Fuck that.”

Ross scowls and snaps back a response. “What, are you  going to leave me in there alone feeling terrible about saying no?”

“Fuck off! Just forget it, Ross, forget I said anything today.”

“Smith, I’m sorry.” Ross pleads with him. “Look, I...I -”

“Ross, just _go_.” He tries to tug free of Ross’ grip, but he holds tight.

“It’s not that I don’t care about you, I do-”

“Dammit Ross, shut up and leave me alone!” Smith growls between his teeth.

“No, because I’m not going to let you go home hurt.”

“Oh, fuck that! Seriously?” Smith finally yanks his arm from Ross’ grip. “If you care so much why didn’t you say yes?”

“Because...because I’m your _friend_ , Smith. Friends care about each other. That’s not going to change, is it?”

Smith shakes his head and sighs. He looks away from Ross, out into the parking lot. The rain is plastering his hair to his head. Ross can already feel the moisture in his clothes. His shoes are muddy and waterlogged from leaping into puddles to get to Smith.

“No, no, I...” Smith looks back at Ross. “I don’t want that to change. I don’t want to lose you as a friend, too.”

“You’re not going to.”

Smith frowns sadly and he reaches up to smooth Ross’ wet hair away from his forehead. His fingers are like fire, and suddenly Ross shivers. It’s cold out, in this weather.

“Ross...” Smith mumbles. He places his hands on either side of Ross’ shoulders. A warm, familiar gesture.

“Please, just...” He steps closer, until they are a breath apart. “Please tell me that you love me back...”

Ross wanted, truly wanted, to say what Smith wanted to hear. Smith’s eyes looked at him with such hope and love in them. They were a kind of blue-green like some sort of enchanted grove. Something from a fairy tale, where fireflies light the night sky. Ross desperately wanted to get lost in them, stare until he fell in. Stay with Smith and tell him everything would be fine.

_I want..._

Ross takes Smith’s face in his hands and wipes the rain off of his cheeks.

_I want you...but I don’t want to hurt you._

He doesn’t bother to think it through before he bends his head forward and kisses him.

And it’s...something else. It’s everything kissing is "supposed"  to be, but at the same time, it’s not.

All that matters in that moment is them. Ross forgets about today’s events, he forgets about the rain and the damp cold they’re standing in. He forgets about everything but Smith. It’s like the entire world is gone and this kiss, this soft, sweet press of lips, is the only thing left.

There are no fireworks, but Ross feels...content.

After the kiss breaks, he lowers his hands before he opens his eyes. This time he can’t meet Smith’s.

“I can’t.” He says with a voice like broken glass.

The rain continues to pour down on them.

Smith doesn’t say anything, but his hands move off of Ross’ shoulders. He pushes Ross away, turns his back, and bolts straight for his car.

“Smith...” Ross calls out. He watches as Smith gets in and starts up the thundering engine.

Smith drives away, tires squealing on the wet asphalt. He doesn’t look back.

Ross is left standing, sopping wet and cold.

One kiss.

One beautiful kiss.

It’s something he’ll never have again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don’t know how to end this story other than this.  
> I will say that Ross and Smith repair their friendship, but I can’t say if they would end up together or not.  
> I don’t know.  
> So much of this fic is taken from a real world situation.  
> Well, not the situation exactly. More the premise and the feelings. It’s the only example I have of me being greyromantic, and since I’ve been trying to figure that facet of my identity out, I wanted to write a fic about it. There needs to be more fics like that.  
> But...I don’t know how to end this version of Smith and Ross’ story. I would like to think that they _do_ end up together, but for that to happen Smith has to understand Ross being greyromantic. Which is hard to explain. I can’t explain that to myself, so...I honestly don’t know if my version of greyromantic _can_ have relationships that are more dating oriented.  
>  I don’t know how to write Smith understanding because I don’t know if someone in that situation _would_ understand.  
>  Can you love someone and cultivate a relationship with them knowing they don’t love you the same way?  
> I don’t have the answer to that.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m having a hardcore nostalgia trip right now.  
> Because omg passing notes in high school.  
> Like, I really reverted into my high school mindset for this. It kind of scares me.  
> I’m not in high school anymore, I promise. Not that being in high school is a bad thing, but I like my current writing style better instead of...this...weird...one? Ah well.


End file.
